


Dolls

by Daerwyn



Series: A Collection of Drabbles by Helmaninquiel [22]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Emotional Abuse, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:25:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5112803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine being Boromir and Faramir’s sibling, trying to get some love/attention from your father, only to fail.</p><p>100 Followers Celebration</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dolls

“Look, father!” you cried as you held up the small dress that was able to fit your doll. The maid had been teaching you to sew after you told her how much you’d like to make things for your doll. But Denethor did not look up from his letters, not even for a second. Nor did he respond.

“Father?” you tried, but no luck.

Clutching the doll with determination, you rose and moved towards the man’s desk. Your footsteps were quiet. A few feet away, you stopped, staring at him, waiting for him to notice you.

The dress had taken you days to sew, and after many pricks of your fingers. You had excitedly run to Boromir first, who always gave you a warm, supportive smile. And then you had gone to Faramir, who had asked you as many questions as possible about the dress. He always knew how to make whatever feat it was warm and joyous. And then Faramir had even asked if you could teach him to sew, though he was not very good at it.

Both of your brothers were in their teens, while you were still in your single digits, but that didn’t stop them from being more of a father to you than your real one.

You stepped closer towards Denethor, and he gave a sigh, as if you had not taken the hint and left, before turning with a scowl. You swallowed, but smiled brightly and held up the crimson dress. “Lookie! I made a dress for-”

“That dress won’t fit you. A waste of fabric.” You faltered, but continued full force.

“It’s not for me. It’s for my doll. It fits her perfectly! It’s a dress I want to make for myself one day! And  the embroidery here-”

“Show this to one of the maids. Get that piece of scraps out of my face.” You blinked, before you lowered your arms and gave a small nod, not wanting him to see the dejected look on your face, but knew he would anyway. It was too bold to hide.

You slunk out of the chambers, moving towards your own. And your hand clutched the fabric tightly. Your dolls would like it, and your brothers liked it. Why didn’t your father?


End file.
